


you have a place in my heart that will always be yours

by storhan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sick Harry, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5977393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storhan/pseuds/storhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry comes down with the flu on Valentine’s Day, but that doesn’t stop Niall from trying to make it a special day for Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you have a place in my heart that will always be yours

When Harry wakes up he quite literally feels like he's been run over by a truck. His head is pounding, his chest feels tight, his throat feels like it's been scratched raw, and the added coughing is not helping. His whole body aches and there’s a churning in his stomach that makes him not want to move because he feels like he could vomit at any moment.

It’s still dark in the room, and Harry’s thankful because he doesn’t need the sunlight adding to his already throbbing headache. He turns his head just enough so he can look at the clock resting on the bedside table and groans. Not because of the time, it’s still early in the morning and he could easily go back to sleep, but because of the date.

February 14th. Three hundred and sixty-five days of the year to become sick, and Harry’s body chooses to betray him on Valentine’s Day, of all days.

He feels terrible, in more ways than one, but mostly because he felt fine the night before and he doesn’t understand how he could become so ill so fast. He doesn’t have time to think about it, though, because he has to turn his head into the pillow to silence the noise as another coughing fit takes over, but it’s no use.

There’s a shuffling of sheets next to him and Harry can feel the body next to him roll over to face him. “Haz? Everything alright?” Niall asks, his voice still a bit gravelly from sleep.

“Yeah,” he lies. He’s knows Niall won’t believe him, because he’s sure he looks just as poorly as he feels, but he hopes that if they both go back to sleep maybe Harry will wake up and he’ll feel fine again.

They’re supposed to go out for a romantic dinner tonight (nothing too fancy compared to everyone else, just dinner at one of the nicer restaurants in town, but it works for them), and Harry would never forgive himself if they had to cancel, even though he knows he can’t control when he gets sick, but he would still feel like it’s his fault. It’s by no means their first Valentine’s Day together, but it is their first Valentine’s Day since they moved in together and Harry knows Niall wanted to make this one more special than the others. But right now it’s looking like this one could possibly be the worst.

“No, you’re not,” Niall says and he’s proven right when Harry coughs again. Niall places a gentle hand to his forehead, and Harry automatically leans up into his touch. He pushes a few stray hairs out of Harry’s face and says, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Niall’s not even gone a minute, but to Harry it feels like an eternity when he feels this lousy. He hopes Niall brings him something for the pounding in his skull. Thankfully he does, along with a cold flannel that he places on Harry’s forehead and a glass of water that Harry gulps down greedily, even though it burns his throat to do so.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says quietly, handing the now empty glass back over to Niall.

“For what?” Niall asks, sitting back down on the bed next to Harry. He still looks so sleepy and soft, Harry wishes they could stay in bed and cuddle all day, but he doesn’t want to get Niall sick too.

“About dinner. I know you had it all planned out, and now we’re gonna have to miss it.”

“Haz,” Niall says, placing a steady hand on Harry’s wheezing chest. “Don’t worry about it. Your health is more important to me than any dinner. We can eat at that restaurant anytime.”

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day,” Harry says a bit pitifully, pouting like a petulant child. He sounds like he's trying to get Niall to understand how awful this situation is, but it's pointless because he knows Niall's never been anything short of understanding. “And I have to go all day without kissing you.”

Niall chuckles affectionately, kissing Harry’s forehead as he pulls the duvet up around Harry’s neck. “Well, you can make it up to me when you feel better,” he says with a wink, and Harry manages a small smirk, because that’s exactly what he plans to do. “Now go back to sleep while I run down to the cafe and get you that soup you like.”

Niall kisses his forehead again and Harry smiles, sinking lower into the mattress as he closes his eyes. Maybe feeling this miserable for the next three days won’t be so bad if Niall’s there to make him feel better.

-

Harry spends the next hour tossing and turning, falling in and out of sleep, waking each time to a series of coughs erupting from his chest. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this terrible, and he feels even worse when he thinks about how Niall’s out getting him soup right now, when they should be getting soup together. They should be spending the whole _day_ together, Harry thinks, but instead he’s here, stuck in bed with a relentless headache and a grumbling stomach.

As if on cue, Harry hears the front door open and a few seconds later Niall reappears in the bedroom. Harry lifts himself into a sitting position as Niall sits down next to him and brandishes a container of hot soup and holds it out for Harry to take, but he just stares at it.

“What?” Niall asks, his eyebrows furrowing in concern when Harry doesn’t take the soup from him. “Not hungry?”

“You’re not going to feed it to me?” Harry asks innocently.

Niall looks skeptical for a moment before he bursts out laughing, pushing the soup towards Harry’s chest so he’s forced to take it. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, reaching back into the bag to hand Harry a spoon. “Haz, you’re sick, not a baby.”

Harry pouts. “I know, but it’s still Valentine’s Day and I thought it would be romantic.” He gives a noncommittal shrug as he takes the lid off the soup and ladles some of it into his spoon, waiting for it to cool down.

“I already told you, Haz, don’t worry about it,” Niall says, patting Harry’s knee through the layers of blankets he’s currently covered in.

“I know,” Harry repeats, finally bringing the spoon to his mouth, swallowing the soup and welcoming the soothing sensation it brings to his aching throat. “But I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend the day.”

“Are you still worried about the restaurant? Harry, it’s not important, I promise. We’ll work something else out,” Niall says with a reassuring smile, and it’s so fond, it warms Harry up from the inside out, just as much as the soup. “The only thing I want you to focus on is getting better, so finish your soup and get some sleep.”

Niall kisses Harry’s cheek this time, and it’s so warm, it reminds Harry of the night after their first date, how Niall had kissed his cheek before he said goodbye but Harry didn’t let him leave without giving him a proper kiss. It feels like ages ago, but Harry can’t imagine being with anyone else.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs, and he hates how it’s only the first time today that he’s said it.

“I love you, too,” Niall says, smiling warmly at Harry as he squeezes his knee where his hand is still resting on his leg before he gets up and leaves Harry alone to eat his soup.

-

Eventually Harry does get some sleep, but it doesn't last long, though, because he's woken up again, but not by coughing - by the smell of food. He glances blearily around the room, thinking that maybe Niall left him something to eat, but he finds nothing. He then realizes the smell is coming from the kitchen, and it takes him a bit by surprise at first because Niall doesn't usually cook.

He doesn't really feel like moving but his curiosity is getting the best of him, so he drapes a blanket around himself like a cape, just like he did when he was a kid, and shuffles into the kitchen. Niall's standing in front of the stove facing away from Harry, but whips his head around with a start when a floorboard creaks under Harry's foot.

“Jesus, Harry, you scared me,” Niall says, his hand on his chest as he walks toward Harry. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I came to see what smelled so good,” Harry says, trying to peek over Niall’s shoulder to see what’s in the various pots and pans sitting on the stove.

“Well, you kind of ruined the surprise, but I’m making us dinner,” Niall says, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Dinner?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, well, I figured since we couldn’t go out, I could bring dinner to us,” Niall replies easily.

Harry’s chest suddenly feels warm and he almost feels like he could cry. It’s only a small gesture, but Niall is still trying to make today special for Harry, and that means the world to him - just like _Niall_ means the world to him. He’s never met anyone as sweet and thoughtful as Niall, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “You’re making it very hard for me not to kiss you right now.”

Niall laughs softly. “It’s nothing special, it’s only spaghetti. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Harry can only nod, and he has to bite his lip to refrain from closing the few inches of distance between them, because he wants nothing more than to grab Niall’s face and kiss him senseless. He didn’t think he could love Niall any more than he already does.

“Sit down, it’s almost ready,” Niall says to Harry before he returns to the stove to stir the contents of one of the pots.

Harry sits down at the table, and his heart gives another involuntary lurch when he sees Niall’s set up a tray, presumably to bring his dinner to him in bed, and Harry smiles at the notion. There’s a lone rose sitting in a thin vase on the tray, and Harry picks it up to sniff it. He glances over at Niall and sees he’s still got his back to him, so Harry walks over and holds the flower in front of Niall.

“Will you be my valentine?” he asks, and he can see the corner of Niall's mouth lift.

Niall takes the rose from Harry and turns around to face him. He looks slightly unimpressed, but still fond as he says, “Haz, I'm your boyfriend, I thought it was already implied that I'm your valentine.”

“It is, but I still want it to be you,” Harry says with a smile and Niall just shakes his head fondly before kissing him on the cheek, right where his dimple would be.

“Now go,” Niall says, nodding his head back in the direction of the dining table and smacks Harry on the bum to get him to move. The noise that leaves Harry's mouth is somewhere between a yelp and a moan.

“Do that again,” Harry whispers.

“ _Go_ ,” Niall says, more firmly this time as he pushes at Harry's back, but Harry can tell he's still smiling.

After Harry sits back down, Niall brings him a plate full of pasta and Harry's stomach audibly grumbles as the smell of marinara invades his nostrils. He grabs his fork as Niall sits across from him with his own plate. Niall watches as Harry takes his first bite, and Harry can see him smile subtly as Harry hums in satisfaction. It's not the first time Niall's cooked for Harry, but Harry knows he likes to see Harry's reaction anyway.

They eat in silence for a few minutes before Harry eventually asks, “So, did you get me anything?” He tacks on a smile because it's meant to be a joke, but Niall just looks confused.

“You told me not to,” Niall says.

“Because I didn't think you'd take me seriously,” Harry says, but he keeps his voice light so Niall knows he's not mad at him. He's really not, because Niall's given him more than enough already, but he was only asking because he may or may not know about the ring hidden in the back of Niall's sock drawer.

Niall just shrugs as he takes another bite of his spaghetti. “I thought I gave you a good enough present on your birthday, anyway,” he says, smiling a bit smugly as he adds, “more than once, I might add.”

All Harry can do is raise an eyebrow, because that is true, and he has to swallow a mouthful of pasta to keep his mind in the present. They go back to eating in silence and at some point Niall's foot finds Harry's under the table, and it's times like this that Harry really enjoys, those moments where they don't have to say anything and they can just enjoy being in each other’s presence. If he's honest, Harry thinks this is way better than some dinner in a crowded restaurant.

When their food is finished, Niall takes their plates to the sink and tells Harry to go back to bed, promising that he'll join him after he washes the dishes. Twenty minutes later Niall wanders back into the bedroom and crawls into bed next to Harry, and even though Harry knows Niall is only keeping a healthy distance between them so he doesn't catch whatever Harry has, he still wishes he could pull Niall closer.

“Thanks for dinner,” Harry says softly, his hand finding Niall's under the duvet. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

Niall hums. “Happy Valentine's Day, Haz,” he echoes, giving Harry's fingers a firm squeeze.

“I'm sorry we couldn't go out,” Harry says quietly, because even though Niall’s made it perfectly clear that it doesn’t matter to him, it does to Harry, and he still feels slightly responsible for ruining their original plans.

“It's fine,” Niall assures him. “I still got to spend the day with you and that's all I wanted.”

Harry smiles, looking up at Niall where he's sitting up against the headboard. “Me too.”

Niall returns Harry's smile, looking fondly down at him with the same look that he's heard Louis refer to as his “Harry look” before he leans down, and Harry's expecting him to kiss his forehead or his cheek again, so he's a bit taken aback when Niall's lips finally meet his for the first time today. He doesn't think he's ever gone this long without kissing Niall, and he didn't realize how much he missed the feeling of Niall's lips against his until now.

“I thought you didn't want to kiss me?” Harry asks. “Won't you get sick too?”

Niall just shrugs. “I'll take my chances,” he says and kisses Harry again. Harry's sure their roles are going to be reversed in a week’s time, but for right now, he can't be bothered to care because he's with the one person he loves the most and that's all that matters. When Niall finally pulls away, he looks at Harry a bit shyly before he says, “About before, you were right, I actually did get you something.”

“Really? What is it?” Harry instantly perks up, sitting up a bit straighter as his heart starts beating fast in anticipation, but it beats even faster when he sees Niall retrieve a small velvet box from the back of his sock drawer and bends down on his good knee in front of Harry.

“Harry Styles, I love you, and I've loved you ever since the day you sat next to me on the train and spilled your smoothie all over me. I've loved you every day for the past three years. I love you even when you're sick, and I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Will you marry-” Niall starts, but doesn't get the chance to finish because Harry's tugging on the collar of Niall's shirt until he's sitting on the bed again, and presses his lips firmly against Niall’s as he whispers _yes_ against his mouth.

That night Harry goes to bed with a smile on his face and a new ring around his finger, thinking about how this went from being potentially the worst Valentine’s Day to being the best.


End file.
